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Thursday, December 24, 2009

Fa-la-la-la-laaa, la-la-la-blah

Graham doesn't know if he wants Santa to visit us tonight. At least, he claims this nonsense every time I've found myself needing to remind him today that Santa is still watching and it's not too late to get on the naughty list. "I don't want Santa to come. I don't want any presents." Okay, suuuuure. And yet another exhibit into my case that he is a teenager trapped in the body of a 3-year old. His getting up at 9:00, 9:30 or 10:00 a.m. every day since I've been on vacation is yet another.

We made cookies for Santa tonight. (Take that, to-do list!!) Well, we made no-bake cookies for Santa. We put them in the fridge and the boys kept asking when we were going to make cookies. "We just did!" I explained. "But there is nothing in the OVEN!" they countered. You just can't get anything by them.

We had new master bedroom furniture delivered today - the excitement of the day, particularly now that we are trapped inside during a midwestern blizzard. So the boys just had.to.jump on our new bed. Which led to throwing pillows. Graham just couldn't stop throwing things. He had to sit in time out on his bed and when I came in to talk to him: "I just like throwing, it makes me laugh," he said. My heart melted for my boy. "Well there are certain places where you can throw," I attempted to assure him. "Where are these places? Will you take me there?" he said, eyes wide. I explained that I was talking about the place known as 'outside' and promised that tomorrow we could go out and throw all the snowballs he wanted. Come on, Mother Nature. Hear my plea, one mother to another.

If Mother Nature had a son, he would definitely be Blizzard.

Earlier this week we started our Christmas marination by driving down to Branson per my in-laws' invitation. We experienced a down-home Christmas complete with Silver Dollar City, an old-world Americana fun park, complete with electric light parade, steam engine choo-choo ride in the woods, and choreographed LED light Christmas tree (the futuristic part of the old world). I thought was quite the experience, and so did most of the four-state region. We were often engulfed in the masses, which Hubby Hawks loathes. "Get me out of here!" he would say while simultaneously being brushed against by five strangers. "Merry Christmas dear," I did my job as Blood Pressure Stabilizer. (He is going to LOVE Disney World next year!)

And Merry Christmas to you and yours from the Hawks Nest. And to all, a good night.